Healing, Living, Loving
by sweetfarthing
Summary: Various characters' perspectives after the final battle at Hogwarts. Starting with Parvati Patil. Really unoriginal title, I know, but I really have no clue what to call this! Read it though!
1. Parvati

A/N- I might do more of these after battle one-shots, depending on if anybody likes them. This probably could have used more editing but I picked through and fixed any mistakes that stuck out to me.

Hints at future Parvati/Seamus, a bad word or two in there somewhere, ehh just read it!

Umm, I guess, enjoy! Review! :D

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><p>As the day progressed, and the sun shined brilliantly for the first time in weeks, people were silently cursing the irony it presented. Britain's wizarding world was in ruins, Hogwarts was demolished to the point of being unrecognizable and the final battlegrounds were still being cleared of various unidentifiable bodies.<p>

So far, there had been no survivors found trapped among the rubble.

One of the people doing the clearing was Parvati Patil.

This was her first day out of bed since the battle. She had been holed up in the infirmary healing from wounds inflicted by Fenrir, and mourning the loss of her sister.

She had emerged from the ward this morning a changed woman. She was cold and distant; a hardened, harsh version of her previously bubbly personality.

After breakfast, during which she avoided looking at the Ravenclaw table, or George Weasley, she learned a few diagnostic spells from Madame Pomfrey and went out onto the battlefield.

Without batting an eyelid, she threw herself into her work, moving quickly and silently among the scorched, blood-stained grass and huge-stones, avoiding solitary body parts with precision.

Every body she levitated from rubble was another death she didn't care about. They were not her sister, they were not her family, and they were not her friends. This was just work, just doing what Padma would have done, what Padma would have wanted her to do.

She wouldn't mourn the loss of her looks, like Lavender, and lock herself in a room, refusing to see anyone.

No, Padma would yell at her if she stayed so vain.

Parvati could imagine it now. Padma would stand in front of her, wrapping her long, black hair into a high bun, pushing up her sleeves in frustration, and she would shout, " 'Vati! Would you stop being so vain? You're alive! You have a few scars now, but you're even more gorgeous than before! Now get up and come help!"

She would squeeze her tight and kiss her forehead; what their mother used to call a 'cherry on top'.

She can't do that now. There would be no more cherries on top, not from her sister, nor her parents. Parvati was alone.

She would handle it. Padma could've handled it.

She pursed her lips and wiped at her sweaty brow when she spotted the small mangled body of a Gryffindor, James Mead; a sweet little first year who hadn't been evacuated with his year mates.

The permanent lump in her throat grew.

James was one of her favorite little Gryffies. He was adorably angelic, with blond curls and blue eyes on a baby face.

Wise beyond his years, he was the one who comforted her after fights with her sister. He was her little brother.

He didn't deserve to die here.

She couldn't even muster up the tears to mourn him, all her tears had been given to her sister. She doubted she would ever cry again.

For the past three days, Parvati had been resigning herself to the fact that she was the survivor. She accepted the fact that Padma would never again seek her out at night, unable to sleep without her sister. Now she had lost both Paddy and little Jamsie.

Padma would stay seventeen forever, she would always be the young, silken haired, doe-eyed teenager she was that last night.

James was mangled and crushed. Parvati almost couldn't bear to see him. She didn't know how he died.

Padma died by killing curse not long into the battle.

She was unblemished and as beautiful as Parvati once fancied herself to be.

She absently trailed a hand across the scars along her jaw, a gift from a werewolf, and using her wand, levitated heavy stones from the young boy's body.

She recalled there was another Mead, a fifth-year girl in Hufflepuff, James told her. She hadn't survived either.

Parvati wondered if that would be better. If she had died along with her sister, maybe she wouldn't hurt.

The gaping void in her heart was ragged, and her emotions were scrambling to right themselves.

Should she be happy for having come out the other side?

Should she be celebrating the survivor's in that "glass half full" way of the Gryffindors?

No. None of her year-mates had lost a twin. The ONLY, only person, who could sympathize was George Weasley. She had yet to hear him speak.

There was anger. Anger at Voldemort, and his Death-Eaters, at Dumbledore for not being here to protect his students, at Snape for killing him; she was mad at Harry for killing the dark lord, then collapsing, another brother lost to the fighting.

She was mad at herself, for fighting beside Lavender and Seamus, instead of her bloody sister.

She was mad at the other Gryffindors, for celebrating their own survival, beckoning her to join in as if she hadn't just lost her bloody other-half. Not caring about James, or Colin Creevey, who kept his small stature while his heart and courage grew.

She would trade _all_ the survivors to have them back.

She was furious for being so selfish, for not caring that Lavender was forever disfigured. She was still alive. She still wasn't Padma.

She was saddened that she hadn't been there. No matter how horrid it would have been, those were still her sister's _last_ moments.

Parvati should have been there. She should have died with her sister.

They came in together, they should go out together.

Parvati had no more tears to cry. There was work to be done.

So after three days of black-out screaming and crying, Parvati dusted herself off, changed her own bandages, and got to work.

A cough brought her back to her thoughts. As she had absently been removing the rubble from James, she hadn't realized that the little first-year was still breathing.

A groan of, "help" escaped his lips. Barely a whisper, but Parvati heard.

Bloody hell, did Parvati _hear_.

She pounced like a mother bear protecting her cubs.

Immediately she began casting the diagnostic charms she learned that morning from Madame Pomfrey.

"James? James, it's Parvati. I'm here, you're alive, and we won. It's over." Parvati's voice was growing more and more hysterical as she frantically cast the basic healing charms she had picked up in school.

_James is alive, holy shit, my James is alive._

This was the first survivor they had found in the ruins during three days of searching.

She didn't notice the smile on her face, or the tears in her eyes, but others did.

Seamus walked over to where she knelt, and let out a scream, "Oi! Parvati found a survivor! It's a first year, Mead! Get Pomfrey over here!"

Seamus' face was surprised. Little James was in tears and Parvati was definitely whispering and singing to him, brushing his hair back in a gesture of comfort.

She kissed his forehead and the boy's eyelids fluttered.

"It's ok, James. It's all over. I know it hurts but Madame Pomfrey is on her way and she can fix anything. I'm so glad you're alive, James, I'm just so-" Parvati broke off, her murmurs dissolving into quiet sobs of relief as she clutched at the young boy's bruised hand.

This first year had survived three days being trapped under rubble, horribly injured, with no food or water. "_A Gryffindor through and through,"_ thought Seamus proudly.

Parvati though, to him, this was promising.

Since the battle, Parvati cried for no one but her sister, and this morning, she was working with the cool, vicious efficiency of what the adults said was Alastor Moody in his prime.

Seamus was glad that she had broken that mask. Parvati wasn't a hard person, she was light and soft and loving. It was disheartening to see her light so snuffed out. His hope had returned with her smile.

More people gathered around him, as Madame Pomfrey worked to physically heal the boy. She was doing good, but not like Parvati. After being administered a pepper-up, James was staring at Parvati like the sun shone out her arse. Parvati was still murmuring and comforting, her disfigured face giving the boy another dazzling smile through her tears.

Seamus' heart stopped. The girl was bloody gorgeous. Scarred herself, with many viable excuses to shut herself off from the world, yet here she was helping another, rejoicing in another's survival.

The group continued watching the two survivors, James and Parvati interact.

Watching them heal each other.

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><p>AN-I'm not sure where I was going with this. I know that this is how I would feel if I had lost my twin. I'd be pissed about even my best friends living when she wasn't. I don't think I really got across the point I might have been trying to make. (Not sure what that was). I wanted to redeem Parvati at the end. She was feeling really angry and lost, then when she finds the first survivor and its this kid she cares for, she turns to mush. Hmmm, I might edit this more one day.


	2. Lavender

Lavender

A/N-This is Lavender's chapter...some LB/CW at the end

Lavender rolled over in the hospital bed, her mind in turmoil.

The war was over, well, at least the fighting was. The part that gets left out of war too often is the clean-up, the re-build; moving on. Another tear ran down her soaked face as she thought about all they had lost.

Her best friend had lost a twin, she also was a disfigured orphan.

The last she saw of Dean, he was having an arm painfully regrown and recovering from a near-fatal encounter with a giant.

Seamus was fine, except his family was currently classified as missing.

They'd lost Harry, and a few teachers and their home was ruined.

It was all over, but there was nothing left to celebrate for.

Everyone thought they knew Lavender, they were all sure that the reason she was holed up in her room was because her scars from Greyback were horrific, a maze of freshly healed, raised pink scars marring her beautiful face and trailing down her neck and across her back.

She was 17, so yes, she was allowed to lament the loss of her good looks dammit, but that was over the first night. She was Lavender Brown, beauty was implicit.

She was hiding because she couldn't handle it.

She couldn't handle not seeing the faces she had become so familiar with. Even the living had changed. Nothing was the same as before.

She couldn't bear to see scars, or empty chairs, or desolate faces. She didn't want to see what the rest of Hogwarts looked like. She just wanted to curl up in her bed, inhale the clean scent of the hospital wing and sleep. She wanted to sleep through it all.

Lavender just wanted to be able to wake up to a rebuilt world, with happy people and a whole Hogwarts. If she could sleep through the still building chaos and reach the resolution, everything would be fine, but eventually she knew that she would have to leave her sanctuary.

Lavender Brown wasn't ready. At all. So she feigned vanity and hid from Parvati, wishing she was as resilient as her friend. She hadn't lost nearly so much as the other girl. Lavender still had her uncaring parents and her younger brother was out of the country, safe with distant relatives. She was alive, with a future and a family, but here she was hiding from the world because she was too weak to face it.

Why the hell was she ever sorted into Gryffindor?

Well, she wasn't smart, she wasn't cunning, she wasn't fair, and she wasn't brave. She didn't fit any house, so did the hat just roll some fucking dice?

Whatever the case, nothing had prepared her for what came next, as she wallowed in fear and self-pity in that pristine white bed.

For a second she thought it was Ron walking into her room, and she remembered that awkward moment when, after snogging Hermione to within an inch of her life, he locked eyes with her; she cringed.

But this wasn't Ron. It was definitely a Weasley, but it wasn't one she was familiar with so she deduced it must be the dragon-keeper Charlie, as she went to school with most of the others, and Bill was married to Fleur and she was acquainted with the couple.

"Lavender Brown?" He wasn't paying any attention to her at all, face buried in a clipboard and shaggy hair falling into his face. Lavender immediately loved his arms though, clad in a black t-shirt his muscly arms were on display for all who wanted to gawk at their wonder. They were broad and freckled so heavily it looked like a thorough tan, with dark tattoos weaving paths up into the sleeves of his shirt.

Lavender couldn't take her eyes off of them.

She dated the wrong Weasley!

"Lavender? The chart says Lavender but the healers have been swamped lately so I apologize if this isn't your name." He was now staring at her with pained blue eyes, but not the way she wanted him too. He looked as if he was coercing a wild dragon into a reserve.

That was wrong. He should be checking her out. She was Lavender Brown, damn the scars.

"Yes, I'm Lavender. Are you Charlie Weasley?" She asked.

He smiled back sheepishly, "Was it the hair?"

"Yes, that, and process of elimination. You're the only one I'm not familiar with yet…Why is that? I'm even friendly with your older brother?" She inquired, batting her eyelids.

"Well, Romania is far, even with the Floo connection and Portkeys, I'm not able to visit often because I'm so busy. I'll be here for awhile though. It says here you need to be evaluated for any werewolf traits showing themselves. It'll just be a few questions though. I had to evaluate my brother Bill too."

While he was engrossed in her chart, she took the chance to cast a few discrete charms to freshen her face and fluff her hair.

"Okay, Charlie, that's all fine. I'm ready." She straightened her posture, hoping to get him looking at her the way she craved.

He lowered his chart and gazed at her for a moment and for a second, Lavender thought this was too easy.

Then he pointed to her shoulder and said calmly, "There's a spider on your shoulder."

After letting out a squeal mingled with fear, frustration and embarrassment, Lavender temporarily halted her plan, swatted away the spider and answered the questions of a chuckling Charlie, hoping he would leave soon and spare her further embarrassment.

Her confidence renewed the next day, when Charlie revealed he had asked to take over her recovery permanently. _He has to see something in me_, she thought.

Three days passed of Lavender's most obvious flirting and besides some quiet laughter and adorable blushes, Charlie hadn't bit once. They talked a lot about themselves, only skimming the surface of her fears of leaving the room and his devastation at the loss of his brother.

She was going out of her mind. Maybe her scars were worse than she thought.

It was now the fifth day of Charlie coming in to check on her and he seemed as comfortable as always. "Hey Lav, how are you feeling this morning?" His sad blue eyes crinkled as he smiled at her and, as usual, she turned to mush.

"I'm feeling a bit peaky. Are you sure there aren't any tests to check for anymore side-effects from curses? I'm positive something is wrong still." Lavender knew she was just delaying the inevitable, but she wasn't ready to leave her sanctuary. She wasn't ready to leave Charlie.

The red-haired man sighed and sat down in his chair at her bedside.

He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Lavender, you and I both know you are completely healthy. You know how to handle your new traits well. I'm not sure why you have been delaying your own release, but I've played along since that first day. Is it-is it the scars? If so, you should know, you're one of the most beautiful girls around, and- and living with those scars and these changes just makes you all the more desirable. You know that, right?"

Lavender was doing somersaults on the inside. _He knows I'm gorgeous! He knows I'm gorgeous! He has to like me!_

With a shy smile completely out of character, a blushing Lavender thanked him demurely, but told him he was wrong.

She then returned to her old self. "I know I'm beautiful, scarred or unscarred. I got over that quickly. I-this is going to sound really cowardly, but I just can't go out there."

Charlie noticed her eyes were tearing up and he gripped her hand tightly, silently asking, "Why not?"

"I can't deal with what's happened yet. I can't deal with knowing that there are people who aren't going back to their lives. There's going to be these-holes everywhere. Desks and beds and jobs and lives. All holes with no people to fill them. I don't handle small changes well, so when my world is shifted and these people that I've grown up seeing are just, gone. I don't understand how to move on."

Charlie sucked in a breath. "Lavender, I understand. It's hard for me as well, knowing that-that Fred won't be back at the shop tomorrow. It's hard seeing George as a shadow of himself and knowing that some of my friends died out there. Merlin, I know that's hard. I haven't gone a day without crying yet. But you can't hide out in here in fear. Your friend, Parvati? She needs you. She may not know it, but she needs you right now. They're all saying it. That she needs her best friend to help her manage. She's nothing like they described her. She's…_hard _now. Closed off. That shouldn't be the end for her." Charlie's arm was around Lavender now, and she was leaning into his warm side, his gray tee slowly becoming soaked from her tears.

"Charlie?" She wiped her eyes before looking up at him, his teary blue eyes meeting an amber tinted-hazel. "Will you help? I mean, I know we don't know each other that well, but, you understand. I trust you to help. Please? Help me through this?"

"Of course, Lavender. Why wouldn't I? I promised Pomfrey I would take care of you, didn't I?"

Lavender hid a relieved smile. She wasn't joking when she said her parents were uncaring. They only checked that she was alive and hadn't even visited. She needed someone around to help her. "You did. Thanks, Charlie. I don't know what I would do next if it weren't for you."

Charlie's chuckles vibrated through her body. "You would have done the same thing to any man who walked through that door, I'm sure. Yet, I can't bring myself to be offended. I know I'm just meat to you.", he joked. She was glad that he lightened the mood.

"Charlie! How rude! I like my meat rare, not alive!" She sat up and pushed him onto the bed, easily since he didn't resist. Straddling his chest she growled at him teasingly. He laughed at her antics, warm hands grabbing onto her pajama clad thighs.

"Wait a minute there. You just said you don't like live meat, and now you attack me? You know I handle dragons on a regular basis, I'm sure I can handle a girl named _Lavender_."

She just smiled at him for a nanosecond, loving how he said her name, then rather impulsively swooped down and attached her lips to his without warning. It was perfect. Charlie gave as good as he got.

She had gotten distracted nibbling at his perfect bottom lip when she felt his hands slip under her pajama shirt, hands resting lightly on her hips.

_We fit_. She thought to herself. _I have to leave this room if I want to have him and a normal life._

His tongue felt made for her as it explored her mouth, making sure there was no stone left unturned.

After several minutes of breathless kissing, Lavender came up for air, her eyes never leaving a goofily grinning Charlie, who's only words were, "You've been saving that for a week haven't you?"

Lavender ignored him. Placing her hands on his defined pecs, she asked a serious question. "You weren't joking were you? If I go out there, you'll be with me, right?"

"Of course, Lavender."

"Good. I'll need some real clothes, and a shower." She hopped off of the man after a quick peck on his swollen lips and disappeared into the bathroom.

"And don't be fooled be the girly name! I'm sure you'll be scrambling to keep up with me!"

An hour later, the petite Lavender emerged from her room with an ostentatious hickey centered on her scarred neck and radiating a proud, content beauty. Minutes later, she was to be found pulling around a smiling, hulking Weasley while she searched the Great Hall for 'her best friend ever' Parvati.


	3. Angelina

Angelina

So what the hell was she supposed to do? Why had this happened to them? Angelina watched from across the room as the Weasleys cried over Fred's body. It was hard to bear, but she couldn't look away. They looked whole, but not. All the pieces were there, each child and the parents, but it obviously wasn't the same picture it was this morning.

This morning, Fred had kissed her goodbye as he went to the Burrow, promising to meet up with her later. This morning, they were looking forward to revealing good news to the family.

When a brown hand wrapped around her shoulders, she jumped a little in leftover battle reflexes, but leaned into the body when she realized it was Lee.

"It's okay to cry, Angelina. But sitting here shaking from holding it in isn't going to do you or the baby any good." he whispered to her. His voice was shaky with emotion.

She didn't respond. She actually hadn't noticed that she was shaking at all. Her attention was totally on her fiancé's dead body, and her mind was screaming at her all the reasons she shouldn't go over there and wail like she wanted.

_They're his blood. They should be able to mourn as a family._

_They have more of a claim on him than you._

_They didn't even know about your relationship, or the baby. _

_It's not like the baby is aware its dad is gone. _

_You haven't been together long enough. _

_You yelled at him yesterday. _The list went on. Eventually Angelina had convinced herself she had no right to intrude on the family moment, as she was not real family.

Lee held onto her hands tightly, and Angelina was grateful that he was here. She knew where Lee should really be. Next to George, where he had always been.

"Lee, it's fine if you want to go be with George. It's where you belong. You are as much a part of the family as anyone."

"Angelina do you hear yourself? For one, you're blubbering. Two, you were his fiancée. It doesn't matter if they didn't know. It does matter that you loved him as much as they did and you have just as much of a right to be with him right now as they do. Come on." Lee stood up, pulling her with him.

Angelina panicked and immediately dug in her heels. "Lee, I can't. I can't go over there. It's too real. I just can't see him. I can't. What are we going to do? I don't, I can't-" and Angelina collapsed in the middle of the Great Hall, blubbering and wailing and hiccupping.

Lee sighed, he felt like doing the same thing. He had lost a brother. George, Fred and Lee were triplets. A package deal. He felt ripped off. _How could Fred just leave us like this? He wasn't allowed to die. We all were supposed to come out of this alive and whole._

That didn't happen. Alicia was without her sight, Katie was horribly disfigured, George was missing an ear and the Forge duo had been permanently halved. They were all battered and broken and Fred's death seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

Lee punched and swung at the open air and broke down right beside Angelina, wailing just as loudly, but furiously cursing everyone responsible. He snuggled up to Angelina and they both sat and cried.

There were tears of sorrow, frustration, and confusion. They were tired. The stress built as they were children pressured into war, pressured into risking their lives and families because their government was too incompetent to handle it themselves.

It wasn't fair. They were fresh out of Hogwarts, with lives ahead of them and dreams to accomplish. All of that was put on hold to survive a war that they shouldn't have had to fight.

It was only half over. Now it was time to rebuild, to clean up. The Ministry of Magic was in shambles and corruption was rampant.

Angelina didn't give a shit about the clean-up right now. It was about Fred being gone. She wouldn't wake up to his perfect lopsided grin anymore. He wouldn't prank her in the mornings, or the afternoons, or at night. There was to be no more of his wild ideas, the ones that she starts out hating but gets sucked into enjoying anyway, like taking gillyweed and going to try and talk to the mermaids in the lake. Her baby wouldn't ever get to meet her crazy father.

It wasn't fair. Three days later and that was the most coherent thought Angelina had. Anything else was a blur of Fred, a blink of the future they could have had and the massive uncertainty that remained now that she was a single, pregnant nineteen year old.

She hadn't seen her other friends, as most were in St. Mungo's and she was cleaning up Hogwarts. Lee pestered her about telling the Weasleys her news, but she remained adamant that it would not be well-received. She avoided them like the plague, which in a way they were. Inescapable, the sheer number in the ginger brood ensured that she was almost always in proximity to one of them. That flash of Weasley hair made her ache deep inside, because she knew it would never again be _her_ Weasley standing out in a crowd.

She always succeeded in keeping away until, after dropping off pain potions to the hospital wing, a blur of ginger cornered her and four arms pinned her to the cold stone of the corridor. Peace be damned, Angelina almost reached for her wand, a defensive spell already on her slightly chapped lips. _Hold up, tiger. War is over and the only people this shade of red are Weasleys._

Allowing the adrenaline to fade and calming her remaining battle reflexes, Angelina turned her head to face the two assailants.

An exhausted looking Ginny and Ron stood before her, Ron easily towering over the two women in his presence.

"Angelina, we know." was all the Ginny said and already the dark girl was planning the revenge she would inflict on Lee Jordan.

Mad at Lee, but also feeling a sad relief, Angelina got a case of diarrhea of the mouth, grateful to get her secrets off her chest.

"Ugh, well. I didn't want to intrude on your mourning with the news of my baby. I mean, he…isn't here so I'll have to raise it alone and it is in no way your responsibility or obligation to take care of the baby and…." Angelina was getting a little hysterical, but she broke off at the shock on the faces of her almost in-laws.

"What did I say?"

"A baby?" Ron whispered. He grabbed her by the shoulders and gently shook her. "You're pregnant? You're having…his baby?"

At first Angelina thought she was right, that they wouldn't accept the child, but the shining hope in Ron's eyes whenever he said the word baby made her think otherwise. It was the same look that Fred had after she told him the news.

Ginny's face was harder to decipher. There was the same light of hope in her eyes, but the lines marring her face were in worry, as if she thought this was too good to be true.

Angelina barely noticed that Ron was still shaking her for an answer until Ginny spoke up. Quietly, she murmured to Ron, "Stop that. If she's pregnant you need to be gentle with her."

Ron jumped back as if shocked, then a look of horror crossed his face. "Have you seen Madame Pomfrey? After the battle I remember you being really battered! Is the baby fine? How far along are you? We have to tell mum! She'll smother you, I think."

He immediately grabbed the arms of both of the women, pulling them along determinedly, deep in thought about this new family development.

Maybe his mother would come out of that fog she was in. Maybe George would speak again….

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><p>AN-I'm making this one into two chaps, with the second half being from the P.O.V of a Weasley, mostly because this is one of my favorite couples. (Fred/Angelina) Hopefully the next part will be up soon, but I have finals coming up so maybe not until my winter break! Fingers crossed!

Review!


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